


A Story of Fire and Darkness

by extra_ordinary05



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/F, F/M, Little bit of PTSD, M/M, Panic Attacks, do we even know his name?, enjoy, half messed up by amarantha and king of hybern, i dunno how to frickin do this, maeve and erawan messed half of these guys up, nightmares/terrors, small amount of bloodshed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29504766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extra_ordinary05/pseuds/extra_ordinary05
Summary: Aelin is working to rebuild her broken kingdom into the glorious place it once had been. Her efforts are interupted when a something strange shows up on the borders of Terrasen.Feyre and her family are trying to recover and heal from the damaging war they have just won. While battling the monsters that haunt them, they discover a magic that can either bring about great destruction, or can protect like nothing they've ever seen.
Relationships: Aedion Ashryver/Lysandra, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn, Elain Archeron/Azriel, Elide Lochan/Lorcan Salvaterre, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Manon Blackbeak/Dorian Havilliard, Morrigan (ACoTaR)/Original Character(s), Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. The Portal (Part 1)

Aelin wasn't sure what the dark, swirling mass before her was, but every instinct was screaming for her to run. Even with her court at her back, she felt like bolting. It had been only six months since they had defeated Erawan and begun rebuilding Orynth. She could hardly believe it. She had lived to see her twentieth birthday. She had always thought that the gods had something against her. She had always been fighting, always burning. And yet she now finally had the opportunity to live a peaceful life, to learn how to serve her kingdom, her crown. The dark mass before her seemed like a joke, something the gods had brought to her, mocking the need for adventure, for the thrill of the fight buried inside her. But the gods were gone, so that was ridiculous. 

Aelin had been in a meeting with boring, old advisers who were trying to convince her that the money she was spending on a theater for her people, and admittedly herself, was a horrible decision, really. Simply awful to even think of the notion. Aelin snorted, rolling her eyes as she relived the argument she'd had with them. Rowan glanced at her, a questioning look in his eyes. Aelin shook her head. 

Rowan had come bursting in, muttering apologies to the outraged old men and requested that Aelin come see to some matters of business that had just come up. She had tried not to look too relieved and said her farewells to her advisors. As they stepped out of the room, Aelin had slumped her shoulders, sighing with relief. Rowan chuckled.

"I'm sorry, really, to take you away from such an interesting conversation." Rowan smirked as she snarled softly at him. His smile faded. "They still aren't giving you a break?" 

Aelin shook her head.

Rowan growled. 

"Let's just go. I can feel the walls closing in," Aelin grumbled. Rowan's previously murderous face morphed into something more solemn.

"The guards found something on the west border of the mountains. I think we need to check it out," he said. Aelin nodded and started heading off towards the stables. Rowan caught her arm to stop her movements.

"I think we're going to need to call for help, Aelin." Aelin's eyes widened slightly. 

"What is it?"

Rowan paused. 

"I don't know."

Another pause. Aelin loosed a tense breath. "Who do we need to contact?" Aelin turned around and started for her quarters. Rowan fell into step beside her.

" I think we're going to have to call in everyone. Or try, at least." Rowan shook his head. "I've never seen anything like it, Aelin. We're going to need some more magic wielders to take a look at it." Aelin stopped suddenly.

"You've already seen it?" Rowan halted as well, face wary.

"Yes."

"And?" Aelin looked at him incredulously. "What did you see?" They launched back into motion.

"It's like nothing I've seen, Aelin. It's a-- a mass of some sort." Rowan seemed to be struggling, trying to explain what he had seen. They were almost to their room now. "It's a black, swirling mass. It looks like-- like some kind of dark magic, but it stays to one amount of space." Rowan shook his head. 

"We need help, Aelin. It gave off such a feeling of darkness; it's wrong, whatever it is."

Aelin was quiet. Rowan let her think, to stew over the information that he'd just given her. Aelin slid her gaze to Rowan. A smile tugged at her lips, a wicked glint in her eye.

"Let's get started then." The look that they exchanged was nothing short of terrifying.

And now she was here. Arms crossed, feet planted. Staring at the . . . thing in front of her. The ones who had answered her call for aid at her back, along with her court. Lorcan and Elide had come first. Dorian and Manon next, although they came separately. Aelin had yet to ask about them, but she saw the heated glances they shared when they thought no one was looking. Aedion had come with Lysandra in tow. Aelin smirked. Aedion lived in Orynth, but he jumped at the offer to deliver the message to Lysandra. Aelin glanced at the intertwined hands that they tried to hide from the others. And, of course, there was Rowan. The others had not been able to come before Aelin's patience had run out. 

She had stormed out of the castle, her court at her heels. She had known what a burden it would be to rule over Terrasen. And had hated it. For ten long years of her life. A part of her still did. But she could not forget the slaves in Endovier. In Callacula. Her people slaughtered by Erawan. Would not forget.

Even then, though, she missed the wild, savage part of her that she had come to love all those years. The freedom to be vicious and fierce. The ability to scare anyone with a simple look, to stand against anyone that pissed her off. And so she had left. Had walked away from that place full of restrictions and expectations. And had bared her teeth at the clear blue sky in a feral smile as that castle faded at her back.

That grin had quickly faded as she saw the hideous thing. As it whispered to her, its voice a soft, dark caress that had her magic leaping and raging, begging to be released. Even though she only had an ember of the bonfire she once possessed, fire was still fire. Wild, uncontrollable. She leashed it firmly, grimly inspecting the strange, dark thing.

"What is it?" Aedion asked, brow furrowed.

"Well, if we knew what it was, we wouldn't have asked you to come," Rowan said, annoyed. Aelin snorted. She was grateful for his presence here. Because the instinct to run was getting stronger, for both of them. Aelin could see that it was affecting the others as well. But Rowan's presence was the one that was keeping her chained to the Earth. 

Aedion pointed at Rowan, a dark look on his face. "You can shove it, bastard." 

Rowan snarled at him. Aelin gestured at both of them distractedly.

"Ladies, ladies. We all know you're pretty. Now let's break it up." Lysandra and Dorian laughed, Elide and Manon looked at each other chuckling and even Lorcan had to press his lips together to keep from letting loose a laugh. The glares from the two males were thunderous, but Aelin ignored them both and took a step forward. Closer to the swirling magic. That's what it was, she now realized. The snarl that ripped from Rowan's body was feral, deadly. Aelin rolled her eyes and took a step forward muttering, "Territorial Fae bastard."

And then, as if some invisible chain snapped, the rest of her court stepped forward. Still wary, of course, but curiosity got the better of them. Each of them examined it. Lorcan stepped to the side to see behind it.

"Nothing but empty space," he growled. He folded his arms across his chest, staring at it, as if that would make it reveal its secrets to him.

"I can't see anything through it. Just pure black," Dorian murmured quietly.

Aedion gasped. "NO. Really?" Lysandra sniggered.

"You can shut it now."

Aedion raised his hands, trying unsuccessfully to look innocent.

"That's enough," Elide said softly, but not weakly. Lorcan growled his agreement, not taking his gaze from the churning black.

Lysandra groaned. "Oh, c'mon guys! This is the most fun I've had in weeks!" Aedion snorted, then seemed to realize what he'd done when Lysandra turned a predatory gaze towards him.

"Don't make me turn into a monster, Aedion." The softness in her voice was more unsettling than the actual threat.

Aedion sketched a shallow bow, his eyes not leaving her for a second. "As if anything you could turn into could make me afraid of you."

"That's enough, Aedion, Lysandra," Lorcan said, growing anger hiding behind the words.

"The old bastard can't remember how to have fun," Lysandra sniped.

"Oh, we know that's not true, Lys." Aedion flicked a knowing look at Elide. Lorcan snarled, echoed by Manon's growl and the ringing of steel as her nails slowly slid into view.

Rowan sighed with long-suffering. "Someday, I will throttle you, Aedion."

Aedion laughed. "Anytime, Prince."

"If there's anything left you can have him after I'm done with him," Manon crooned with deadly softness. Aedion had the good sense to look somewhat unnerved.

It was many long minutes of friendly bickering and banter before they finally realized that Aelin had not spoken for nearly ten minutes. She was staring at the roiling magic, a vacant look on her face. Rowan was staring at her, willing her to look at him. Aelin couldn't tear her gaze away from the unending black. And that silence in her head. She hadn't felt that since the day she escaped from Maeve's clutches.

" . . . Aelin?" She barely heard whoever spoke. 

Swallowing, she opened her mouth. "I know what it is." She could feel the shock that rang silently through the group.

Dorian stepped forward hesitantly. "What is it?" 

Aelin blinked.

"It's a portal."


	2. The Portal (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically the same as chapter one, but it's from Feyre's POV. I'll be switching between their different POV's throughout the story.

I dart forward, slashing with my sword. Cassian barely moves fast enough to dodge the lethal blow and launches into an attack of his own. The sun beats down on us in waves, relentless, heat rippling around us. I block and parry, duck and side-step. And when he forces me to yield that first step back, I snarl. 

Cassian chuckles darkly, and attacks with even more ferocity. After he's given me a small scratch on my upper arm, I go wild. We had already established that we were not to use magic, for fear of hurting Mor and Amren. Who watched from behind us. I was sure there were already bets going. On both of us, probably.

No, I didn't dare let my magic loose. Instead, I let that-- that fighting instinct within me loose. Let it control my limbs and narrow my focus into something razor sharp. Cass doesn't know what hit him when I attack. He swore in a long, steady stream. I swung my sword and when Cassian lifted his sword to block the swing, his arms trembled, just a little bit, but enough to tell me that he was getting tired. My eyes met his and I gave a feral grin, snarling a bit through my teeth. His eyes narrowed, but with him distracted, he didn't see the blow when it came.

And as I snarl, wielding to that ancient, wild part of me that roars with the savage fighting instinct, I can see why he loves this so much. It's exhilarating, the hidden grace, the dangerous dance with steel and strength.

I drop, swift, strong, sure, and sweep-kick his feet from under him. He hits the ground hard, the sound of his jaw snapping shut echoes in my ears. He snarls a curse, his eyes lighting up with fury. He leaps up, and tries to go on the offensive again. But when I give him a shallow cut on his cheekbone, he gapes at me in shock. And when I knock him to the ground again, he freezes. When he tries to get back up again he found my sword tip at his throat.

"I win," I panted breathlessly. He snarls half-heartedly and takes the hand I offer him. The muscles in my arm almost give out as I haul him onto his feet. Once he was standing, I became aware of slow clapping behind me.

I didn't know when we'd started training but, sooner or later, Mor had found her way up to the sounds of us training, Amren close behind. Then Mor had suggested we duel, that mischievous glint in her eyes. I limped over to the couch, muscles trembling and aching, dripping with sweat, legs unable to support my weight anymore. 

I plopped down on the couch next to Mor, barely making it in time.

"Ewww. You're all sweaty!" Mor hissed, scooting away. I waved a hand in dismissal, my head falling back to rest on the back of the couch. A glance at Cassian said he was almost as exhausted as I was. He was leaning on the wall next to Amren, panting. His wing tips were almost touching the ground. He touch his cheek gingerly, wincing slightly. His eyes met mine and he smiled slightly.

"I'm going to win next time." I laughed.

"In your dreams, maybe." I smirked a little. "Cassian, I hate to break it to you, but you're getting pretty old." He snarled little, even as his eyes lit up with amusement.

"And I've barely broken you in," he said with a terrifying grin on his face. I stuck my tongue out at him. 

"Aaaaand here he goes." Mor sighed. 

"What are all you squawking about up here?" I didn't see Rhys until he was behind me. I startled a little bit as his hand brushed my shoulder. 

"Feyre grew fangs and beat up Cassian." Amren said, casually studying her nails. Cassian growled at her, too tired, it seemed, to come up with a retort of his own.

"Finally," Rhys snorted, "the bastard needs a humbling every one in a while." Mor snickered, shooting a mischievous glance at Cassian. The look he gave back to her promised vengeance. He pointed a finger at her darkly, opening his mouth to say something rude when we were interrupted. 

Shooting from the sky like the winds pushed at his heels, was Azriel. Cassian was already stalking towards him when he landed, the force of his landing making his knees pop audibly. His face was grim.

Rhys stood straighter from where he was at behind me. "What is it." The words were flat. Azriel's face showed the most emotion I'd ever seen on it. He shook his head, a baffled and surprised look on his face.

"Azriel." The growl in Amren's voice brought him out of his daze.

"I don't know. It's . . . strange. I don't know what it is. The shadows just started to-- " Azriel shuddered slightly. He looked at Rhys. "You might want to see this."

Everyone burst into motion at that sentence. I stood up slowly, already feeling a little steadier. I walked to the door, swiftly. 

"I'll let my sisters know that we're going out." I was through the door way before anyone could respond. I strode down the hall to Nesta's room. As I neared the door, steeling myself before knocking slightly on the door. No response. I opened the door, peering in. She sat in the chair by the window, gazing out in such a way that it reminded me of Elain. After that bastard of a king shoved her into that Cauldron. I shoved away the dark thoughts settling over me. I cleared my throat slightly.

"We have some business to attend to. We'll be leaving shortly." Nesta looked at me, her expression dead, eyes hollow and unfeeling.

"And I should care because . . . why?" Her response was careless, and albeit harsh. But more than I'd expected. I hid my surprise before she saw and shook my head.

"You don't have to care, I just thought I should let you know." Nesta inclined her head slightly, and directed her gaze back out the window. I stood there, hoping, just a little bit, for something more. But my sister ignored me, stared out that window, expression lifeless. I slowly closed the door, hurt panging through my chest. I lingered for a few moments before heaving a sigh. Lifting my head, I strode down to the kitchen. 

These days Elain was more likely to be down in the kitchen or in her garden, trimming rose bushes or baking with Nuala and Cerridwen than in her room. Sure enough, Elain hummed quietly to herself as she kneaded some bread dough on the countertop. I let my steps fall audibly, so as to not startle her. Elain looked up, the shadows that sometimes rested in those eyes blessedly absent. She smiled at me before returning to her bread. 

"Hello. It's a nice day today, isn't it?" I could hear the smile in her voice and hearing it made me smile as well.

"Yes, it's been a long time coming, too." Elain chuckled. I strode forward to her side. For a moment I savored the peaceful moment with my sister. The shadows that had been haunting her after Hybern were mercifully becoming less and less visible. I studied my sister, the faint smile on her face, the one that I'd been seeing more and more these past few weeks. 

"We're going to be heading out," I said. "I don't know how long we're going to be gone, but I just figured you should know." I started to head towards the door when Elain turned to me.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her eyes flashing with concern. I smiled, giving a little shrug with my sad smile. 

"I don't know. Az said that we needed to check something out. It could be a possible threat, but he seemed to just be a little confused, maybe a little scared. We're going to check it out though, and see what it is."

Elain straightened at the mention of Azriel. Her eyes flashed with concern again and before I could reassure her that everything would be all right, she spoke.

"Do you need me to come with you?"

I stilled, staring at her. She stared back, a determined look on her face. Elain hadn't wanted to be involved in any of the issues that had come up in the past few months. In fact, she hadn't really wanted to even go to Velaris until a week ago. I found it hard to speak past the lump in my throat.

"No. I need you to be here in case it is a threat." Safe. So you both can be safe. 

Elain seemed to see this and more in my face. She nodded, a small tension in her shoulders relaxing. I turned. A slender, warm hand on my shoulder stopped me. I turned, only to be pulled into a fierce embrace. I returned it with as much fierceness. After a moment, she pulled back.

"Be careful."

I nodded. "I will."

Rhys met me at the stairs, where I suspected he had been for a while now. He smirked at my eye roll. We went up the stairs, neither of us speaking. When we got up to the roof, we found everyone waiting for us. I looked at my family's faces, noting the grim determination that lay there. Rhys nodded.

"Let's go. Az, lead the way."


	3. A New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand we're back to Aelin, chums!

The silence was deafening.

It raged and tore at her, threatening to rip her away and shove her down to the dark depths in the corners of her mind. It prowled closer and closer still, trees looming overhead.

In the silence, a whip cracked. Screams. Horrible, blood-curdling screams. A voice purred in her arched ear, a wicked female smiled with wicked delight; the glass dug into her knees; the male's voice purred as a knife scraped along the top of an iron box; she heard the whine of a canine friend forced to stand watch. The silence closed in, and she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe--

"A portal?"

Aelin blinked. She began to hear again, the murmuring wind, birds singing, her own breath rasping in her ears.

Aedion's words seemed to snap everyone back into action. Aedion shakes his head in disbelief. "How did it get here?"

Lorcan stalked forward, closer to the swirling mass of black. Upon further inspection, Aelin could see that it wasn't completely black. She could see the tints of deep purple and dark blue. The patches of green and light pink within the depths of the portal. And yet it seemed to suck up all of the light that touched it. It seemed as if there was no light within those dark depths.

The tension returned tenfold as a bitter laugh escaped through Dorian's teeth. He turned to look at Aelin. She leaned against a tree, arms crossed in guise of relaxation.

"I don't understand how this is here. Maeve is gone and even if she wasn't, I took away her world-walking powers." Dorian's brow was furrowed in confusion. At Aelin's side, Rowan tensed slightly at the mention of Maeve.

Nothing was said for a good while after that.

"Where do you think it leads to?" Elide's cunning eyes were on the portal, face contemplative and slightly curious.

"Why don't we find out?" Manon's eyes gleamed as she strode for the portal, nails and teeth already bared.

"Manon--," Dorian started. She was already through. Lysandra emitted a small shriek as Manon disappeared through the wall of darkness.

The shock was palpable. Aelin sighed through her nose. The sigh spoke of long-suffering.

"You're all worse than children," she muttered, straightening up. She stalked after Manon, steel ringing hollowly as she drew her sword. She spoke as if she was weary, but that small part of her laughed as she strode forward quickly. The assassin was coming out to play, it seemed.

"Aelin, don't even think about--" 

Aelin was stepping through the inky black when she heard Rowan snarl angrily. She didn't have time to think about that though. Her attention was elsewhere.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. It was familiar, like she had been here before. The only problem was she didn't know where she was.

She took in her surroundings, the glistening snow-capped mountains, the river that raged as it flowed down-river. A city that glittered in the distance beyond caught her attention and held it. Just a few feet in front of her stood Manon, still with that immortal grace that she so loved to flaunt. Quietly, Aelin took the few steps to stand next to the Crochan Queen. Together, the young queens stood in silent awe of the strange new world that they had discovered.

Neither knew how long they stood there.

The silence was disturbed by twin gasps of shock that came from behind them. They whirled, caught off-guard, too lost in the peace that they both had been longing for, the freedom that their crowns had taken away. And perhaps, a bit regretful that the small reprieve from the responsibility of their roles, had been shaken away.

Behind them stood Elide, mouth open in awe, eyes wide, scanning the vast scenery around her. Lysandra was there too, her mottled tail flicking. The feline form she had donned for the new discovery was nearly invisible against the small patches of snow surrounding them.

Elide had dared to take one hesitant step forward when Lorcan came barreling through, Rowan not far behind. Lorcan stormed straight to Elide, his face practically glowing with anger. Before things could escalate much farther than that, Manon clicked her iron nails against each other in warning.

"Where's Aedion? and Dorian?" her court directed their gazes to Aelin when she spoke. Rowan growled deep in his throat, and prowled forward, only stopping when he was in her face. Aelin planted her feet, crossed her arms and glared pointedly at Rowan's grim face.

"Dorian left to inform the inhabitants of the castle that we will be gone for a short while and that there should be no cause for alarm because of your absence." Rowan met Aelin's gaze with a glare of his own. "I also sent him back to gather enough rations for us to survive since clearly, common sense has been lost on you." Rowan huffed angrily.

Before Aelin could snap a retort, movement from the portal caught her eye. Arms heavy-laden with bags of food stood Dorian and Aedion. Their different reactions made her lips quirk up into a mocking smile.

Aedion nearly dropped his arm load with the full-body shudder that racked through him. Dorian's jaw went slack and his eyes nearly popped from his head.

"What is this place," he breathed in awe. Aedion did not seem to have the same opinion about their situation. He leveled a fierce glare at Aelin, who smirked and crossed her arms.

"If you ever," he spat, "do that again, I will throttle you myself."

Aelin bared her teeth in a grin. "Worried, cousin dear?"

"No, in fact, I was more concerned about the fact that I had to rat you out from your delightful advisers. And if you make me go through that portal more times than necessary, there will be no mercy in my heart for you," he shot back. He then seemed to notice his surroundings and Aelin again had to watch as he was thrown for a loop. His reaction was nearly the same as Dorian's, and Aelin had to bit her lip from laughing at the expression on his face.

"Where are we?"

Aedion's question hung in the silence, heavy and cloying. Her court seemed stunned, quietly taking in the scenery around them. Aelin allowed them that moment of stunned silence in exchange for observing her surroundings herself. Her eyes scanned the clearing for any threats, turning slightly to check on the portal behind her.

Her stomach dropped, dread slinking over her bones. It was gone.

She was jarred out of her thoughts when Rowan finally spoke.

"We should find a secure place to make camp." His words seemed to have a grounding effect for the others who were still in their reverie. Their suddenly shadowed eyes darted around the clearing quickly.

Aelin started for the place she had seen just moments earlier without a word. She knew her court would follow. She also knew that, when she caught the scent of unfamiliar Fae, her court would arm themselves accordingly.

Aelin whirled, slipping into the killing calm hidden deep in the recesses of her mind. Her stance widened, her sword lifting. Her court fell into position immediately, claws, swords and magic at the ready. And, with hooded eyes stared at the Fae standing across the clearing.

When Lorcan snarled minutes later, she hissed furiously, "Stand down, Lorcan, or so help me."

The group of Fae standing across from them seemed to be as wary of Aelin's lot as her own court was of them. The tension in the air threatened to choke the air from her lungs. And when a male with inky black hair appeared just feet in front of Aelin, she allowed the snarls that rang from her court. Her sword-tip raised just a bit higher in the air, but that was the only sign she showed of her discomfort as she lifted her brow at the male.

He stood languidly, hands hidden in the depths of his pockets. He wore fine clothes that spoke of wealth, but Aelin had noticed a few things that the male had seemed to be hiding. The male thrummed with power. She felt her own fire leap and was surprised when it took actual effort to keep her magic contained. She would consider it later, when the threat these people posed had passed.

That was when she noticed the next thing about the male. He was a Warrior. And he was so familiar, in all of his fluid grace and humming magic. When she met his eyes, she had to restrain the jolt of surprise that shuddered through her.

Suddenly, she was falling through worlds, roaring in defiance, magic burning as she fought to get back to her mate. She was tearing through a shield of dark magic that slowed her down, the male that it belonged to raising his hand as if he was greeting her.

Aelin could barely restrain the quick intake of breath that threatened to escape her teeth. And as she stared at the face of the male beautiful beyond reason, she knew where she was.

The male did not seem to recognize her. He stared back at Aelin, his violet eyes burning into her. Nothing was said for a good while. Aelin could feel Rowan's growing tension from where she stood in front of the strange male. When the male took a small step forward, her court exploded.

Rowan was there instantly, snarling at the male. His fierce snarls were echoed by most of the members of her court. Aelin was surprised when she heard even Manon letting a small growl slip through her teeth. Aelin rolled her eyes.

The male quickly lifted his hands up in a placating manner.

"I'm not going to attack you. I just want to talk."

He spoke with a voice that managed to pierce the air around them, even at the quiet tone he used. It was filled with midnight smoothness and the fierce light of the stars. Aelin studied the male carefully, ignoring the unbroken stream of soft snarls coming from Rowan's chest.

Aelin, very purposely, lowered her swordpoint, straightening out of her fighting stance slowly. She heard Aedion sigh and mutter something under his breath before the sound of a sword slowly being sheathed rang through the clearing.

Rowan whipped his head around, eyes burning holes through her. Aelin rolled her eyes at him.

When Rowan didn't move from his protective stance in front of her, Aelin rolled her eyes again and shoved his arm lightly.

"Stand down."

The order was given to him, but also to the court rallied at her back. Rowan stared at Aelin for a bit longer. What? She quirked her eyebrow at him slightly.

Aelin, what are you thinking?

That we need allies. Rowan shook his head at her but she plowed on. These Fae will not bring any harm upon us.

How do you know? Rowan shot back.

Aelin stared at him relentlessly. Trust me, Rowan.

Rowan shook his head slightly, but stepped aside. Instead, he came to a stop at Aelin's side. Aelin focused her attention on the male still in front of her. He raised his brow at the clash of wills in front of him, but Aelin did not give him an explanation for it.

"I will hear you."


	4. The Strange Ones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre's POV. There is a scene inspired by a song by Victoria Carbol/Inquillery that I used in here. It's called "Caelena's Dirge" if you want to check it out; it's really, really good!

"Umm . . . you guys are seeing this, too?"

I don't even have it in me to respond to Mor's question. I notice distantly that I am, in fact, very tense, but at the moment my attention is focused solely on the fair woman standing in front of the strange, churning mass of darkness.

She stands with her back to me, and I can't see any of her features. My fatigued muscles scream in protest as I quietly shift into a fighting stance, my hand hovering over my sword hilt.

When we'd gotten to the clearing that Azriel had found, it seemed as if there was nothing wrong with it. I'd stared at the clearing, my confusion probably showing in my expression. No one else seemed to know why we were here either. Well, except Az.

He had staggered a step forward and wordlessly pointed.

When we saw it, it seemed as if all sound had been cut off. I couldn't seem to move, my eyes were fixated at the swirling mass that stole all light around it. I was violently reminded of a dark cell, red hair and tittering laughter.

Pain. All-consuming pain. Shuddering its way up my body; bones breaking, screams echoing. A face, as cruel as it was beautiful, sneering, mocking. The final crack of a neck snapping, vision going white, where is home, I want to go home--

The more I stared, the larger it seemed to grow until—

"What. Is that."

Cass's horrified voice brought me back. I had absolutely no motivation to answer Cassian's question. It seemed as if the others had the same idea.

I silently watched the consuming black. It was . . . strange; I couldn't decide if it was more horrifying or interesting. It swirled and folded in on itself. I watched to see if it would grow, as it had seemed to before. The magic I felt coming from it made me think of the Cauldron. A shudder down the bond seemed to cement that theory. My memories threatened to drown me again, but a soft, but firm tug from Rhys kept me rooted to the moment.

It seemed as if the only thing keeping me tethered to this world was his presence whispering in the back of my mind. The screams and pain still echoed along my bones, shuddering it's way into the very heart of my being. I couldn't seem to focus.

The portal, it was— like the Cauldron, in ways that disturbed me. I couldn't help but feel drawn to it, the pull inexplicably strong, drowning all other awareness out.

It didn't speak. This surprised me. Both the Book of Breathings and the Cauldron had been able to speak to me, in some form or another. This— it didn't speak.

It sang.

It sang with a haunting voice. Quiet, whispering. It filled every part of my being with it's unceasing, sorrowful melody. It held me gently in it's trance, singing stories in a strange tongue. It was like nothing I had ever heard.

Someone was gripping my shoulders. I couldn't find it in me; that tether back to reality. I was left floating, drifting in the abyss. My whole awareness was filled with the dark magic that sang of heroes from worlds unknown.

Roaring. Panicked roaring. I couldn't tell if it was in my head, or in reality.

The voice— it was a woman. Her voice cracked with rage, twisted in bitterness, echoed in haunting sorrow. It was worse than the Book. The Book, it had been a mix of all things good and all things bad, creating a monster, a being of . . . chaos. Terror. Those were it's weapons. The Cauldron was cunning, wickedly so. This— this woman was a mixture of rage, sorrow, bitterness. It combined into the most haunting melody of a song.

It seemed as if I would be trapped here for eternity. The woman was alone. So very alone in this dark, lonely place. She sang in a strange tongue, in such a way that I felt as if I was intruding on something so private.

Her voice twisted , rose and fell. A song of life— and death. The song painted a picture; darkness, sorrow.

The woman, alone, skies stormy. She stood alone, utterly alone in a world seemingly without color. A small piece of wood served as a headstone. The woman stood , silent in her agony, veil drifting along the whispering wind.

She stood with her back to me. Hands clasped in front of her. She stood still, almost completely. Her song drifted with wind, winding through the trees. When she started to sing, it was quiet. So quiet even the birds stopped their singing to listen to the woman.

The painting filled my head, my chest, making itself known. I had an unquestionable desire to paint sorrow personified.

The song took all of my attention from the distant feeling of being jostled, shook. Distant yelling, voices that seemed familiar. Before I could look too closely into it, the song swept me away.

The end of the song came like a punch to the gut. The woman finally moved, her shoulders stiffening in a fury unlike any I had seen. It burned. I saw no flames, but the rage— it burned. I could hear it in her song. She sang quietly, but I could hear the rage, the unending grief.

The song cut off abruptly, the sound of rage still echoing along my bones. I had the feeling the there would be no tears on the woman's face if she turned around.

Another song began, in a tongue that I recognized.

"Feyre, Savior of Prynthia,  
Bearer of many burdens.  
Queen of the darkness.  
She comes, High Lady!

Rejoice, she comes!

The one with a heart,  
Of burning wildfires and  
Crackling embers.  
She comes!

Watch for the Phoenix,  
Her raging feathers of gold,  
Her eyes of pure fire.  
She comes, Cursebreaker.

She sweeps across the land  
Screeching her triumph,  
Fury, blazing at her core.

Beware, Cursebreaker.  
The Phoenix comes!  
She returns!! The Phoenix!"

"-eyre! FEYRE!" Someone was roaring again. The throbbing in my head made it obvious that it was coming down the bond as well.

Insistent tugging came from the other side. I blinked, slowly, owlishly.

And everything came rushing back in.

I staggered a step. A strong hand gripped my arm, keeping me upright. My eyes swung up to Rhys' face. I watched as his expression went from panicked to relieved. His shoulders slumped as he blew a mighty gust from his lungs. He opened his mouth to say something, but someone else beat him to it.

"Feyre." I'd never heard that tone of voice from Amren. Before I even turned I knew. My eyes met Amren's grey ones. The bore into me with the force of one who understood more than people who had never suffered. As we had. As that woman had.

"You saw it too." It wasn't a question. I already knew. Despite that fact, Amren nodded, sharp and unforgiving.

"She's coming, then." I couldn't help the flat tone of voice. Again, a sharp nod.

"Who is 'she' ?"

I don't know how to answer that question. Because I- I'm still there. Every breath I take, my mind is less muddled and I am tearing myself out of that dark abyss echoing with sorrow, rage.

It is in the heavy silence that I try to find some sort of grip on reality. Something. Something about that voice, it echoing along my bones, making a home in the dark corners of my mind. Something about it makes the monsters crawl out of their shadows, claws sharp, teeth dripping with malice.

It is this fact that makes me wary of this—Phoenix. This being of such immense power that—that had happened. I had had a vision, of sorts. Because of this being, whether it be woman or female. I knew nothing about her. This Phoenix. This unnerved me. I fought off the unease and sense of impending doom that was stalking me.

But.

It is also this fact that makes me think that maybe— maybe this woman— female, whatever she may be— is a kindred spirit. A fighter. Someone who knew what it felt like to rage at the world and fight desperately for the hope of better things in life. The things that many people do not have to fight for.

A dreamer in a world of nightmares.

"Feyre?"

Rhysand's tone of voice makes my head snap up, almost of its own accord. And what I see— it makes me stop in my tracks.

Rhysand looks terrified. He looks like he wants a to rip apart the world in search for whoever has made me like this, and he looks like he wants to take me as far away as he can. His body is tense, ready to snap into motion— to protect me. I can feel a roll of frustration down the bond. It comes to me only a moment later.

Rhys can't protect me from what happens in my own mind. He can only protect me physically.

At the exact moment I open my mouth to say something, anything, someone comes barreling out of the portal.

The sound of blades unsheathing, curses being hissed full my senses. I instinctively crouch back into a fighting stance, my sword angled.

Then the person— woman— stops.

I found myself impressed, with the grace that she has while stopping. She stopped, and it was as if the wind stopped along with it. A heartbeat. Two.

She was beautiful. She looked dangerous. She held a sword of fine craftsmanship, with the ease of a seasoned warrior. She stood with her back to us, her head of gleaming silver hair falling down her back gracefully. She stood so still, it was as if she was made of stone.

That was when the wind came back.

The silent, charged energy of the still air was nothing in comparison to the howling joy that the wind sang. It flipped, and danced, winding and twisting around the woman. Her hair whipped around her, and she moved at last.

She shifted her weight forward, to the balls of her feet, arms raised slightly. It was as if she was greeting an old friend, quiet, joyful, wild.

In that moment I could have sworn the wind laughed. It was the most joyful sound I had heard.

Time slowed until what was surely a few minutes became an eternity. When the next person came through, I found myself tensing again. This one perplexed me.

She was Fae. And yet she stood next to the human woman as if— as if they were friends. My court had fought tooth and nail to convince the other Courts to join us against Hybern, both to fight for our freedom and the humans' freedom. And yet this female stood next to the woman as if they had gone through many a journey together.

What happened next was also curious. As the two stood together, I watched as an unseen burden fell from both of their shoulders. I was sure that if they turned, I would see expressions of great vulnerability. I also believed that they would let no other person that vulnerability. The way they stood together, it was like how Az would stand with Rhys or Cass. Me and Mor, as well. We weren't quite there with Amren.

All was quiet. It was peaceful, in a strange way. We had only just seen them walk through that portal, but I felt— like they would not be a danger. Not to us, anyways

For the second time that day, I found myself wanting to paint. It was remarkable— they were like light and dark, tame and wild. The silver-haired woman stood as if she was ready to take flight. She stood with her arms slightly held out, catching the wind in her hands.

The female— if the woman was a great bird about to take flight, then she was a great cat. Lithe and long-limbed. Her arms hung loose at her sides, in the illusion of ease, her legs slightly tense, preparing for the lunge. She stood still with the ease of a predator used to capturing her prey. The way she wielded her fine, mighty sword made me wary. I was sure she could kill me with ease.

I could see it in my mind. The female and woman, standing united, watching the sunrise. Ethereal animals beside them. The great cat, standing with the female and the great bird, perched upon the shoulder of the woman. Both in equal measure powerful and beautiful. Air and land, Fae and human, united together.

At that moment the male appears. The moment shatters as his snarls reach the figures standing together. At the same time, the woman and female stiffen. Almost simultaneously, they turn and what I can see of their expressions would send a lesser male running.

This male, he screams predator. The way he moves, the ease with which he snarls angrily make my instincts scream to fight, to flee, to protect. I do not know this male. And yet he has all of my animalistic instincts roaring.

He has gleaming silver hair, much like the human woman. He is broad, built heavily and solidly. He carries weapons. Many of them. I can see the outline of multiple knives beneath his clothing, and I would not be surprised to find more that are hidden more expertly.

He is covered in tattoos. They are strange; almost savage in their beauty. Written in a foreign tongue, they form whorls and spirals, along the side of his face, disappearing beneath his shirt.

I watch with hooded eyes as he storms over to the two companions in front of him. And my interest grows as I watch the silver-haired woman— back down slightly.

The female does no such thing. If anything, she stands in an even stronger position, staking her claim. The male is tall enough to tower over her, but she does not cower. On her face is an expression that sends chills down my spine.

It is completely blank. She stared down the male, her face blank. I watched as her lips slowly pulled back into a small snarl as she stared him down. There were no words said at first, but it seemed as if the female didn't need them.

There was a feeling of astonishment in the air around me, as my companions and I watched the delicate female stare down the huge male. As he slowly relaxed, his shoulders slumping slightly. Hands dangling at his sides. The female's expression slowly relaxed from her slight snarl.

Motion once again directed my attention away.

I don't know how I had missed the raven-haired woman's appearance. But she stood next to the silver-haired woman, watching quietly. The way stood, she put most of her weight on her left foot. She stood as if she had been there for longer than I had noticed her.

But she wasn't the motion that caught my eye. The male— man?— was.

He was tall, and broad-shouldered. Much like his large Fae companion. And he too, was snarling as he walked towards the fair woman.

I was impressed, the way she stood even as he marched over to her didn't falter in the slightest. The silver-haired woman stiffened, though. The look she shot the dark haired man was murderous.

They were— interesting, to say the least. I didn't quite know what to make of them. They were— strange, and the dynamics of the group confused me.

We watched, silent, as the group conversed. They spoke quietly, enough so that none of their conversation was heard. I watched as they raked cunning eyes across their surroundings, skilled eyes watching for threats.

When two more men came through the portal, I found myself strangely expectant. The lack of surprise brought a small feeling of unease.

One was a near copy of the golden Fae female. It seemed as if they were twins. When he had finished whatever he was saying to her, she smirked at him, arms folded across her chest and her hip popped out sideways. 

The other, was— well. He had hair so dark, it seemed to shine with a blue hue. The group stood together pleasantly. Well, pleasantly enough. The two men who had last come through the portal dropped large bags to their feet.

What should we do? Mor's voice in my head startled me, unexpected as it was. I sent a questioning look to Rhys. A small shrug was my response.

We should talk to them. Everyone turned to Cass. He shrugged. Look, all I know is a group of strange Fae and humans have arrived here. They don't seem like a threat, and we don't necessarily want them to be.

He's right. It was Az's turn to be stared at. The shadows are— well, they seem to like these ones.

I heard the cold voice of Amren in my head. I think we're going to need them. The vision— it spoke of a Phoenix.

I gave a small nod. We need this alliance. I don't know why, or what we need it for, but this is not coincidence, Rhys.

Meeting the eyes of my mate, I felt his turmoil. A sense of slight dread, distrust and curiosity. He looked at the rest of us. Fine. But I will be the one to speak to them.

He winnowed before anyone could say anything, cutting off the power connecting our minds together. I sent a wordless growl down the bond, shooting my irritation at him. A dark chuckle answered.

I watched as the group shifted into a battle formation, as if it was second nature. The golden female was at the head of the group. The silver male just behind her, snarled, loud enough to echo across the clearing. Not a moment later, snarls we're being ripped from the throats of the strange company. The wild, harsh sound echoed and vibrated, the sheer amount of predator infused into the sound sending shivers down my spine.

A few moments later, Rhys sent a message down the bond.

They will hear us.

And— she was back. The woman. From the vision. Her song nestled along my bones. But it was different this time. It wasn't a song. Not exactly, anyway.

"And so, a story began. A story of love, hope and friendship. A story of pain, grief and never ending rage--

A story of fire, and darkness."


	5. The Strange Ones (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Aelin! THANKS SO MUCH YOU BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!

They were— different, she thought. They absolutely reeked of Magic. The purple-eyed male seemed to be the most powerful of the group, but Aelin couldn't be sure. The sheer amount of power in the clearing muddled her senses, making it hard to think.

She watched as the group slowly walked forward, her sword in her hand. Aelin knew that her court stood behind her, ready to leap into action. For that same reason, she kept her body relaxed and her sword-point angled towards the ground.

Cunning blue-gold eyes watched the group get closer. They were— so very different, Fae that she had never seen, nor heard of before. Aelin's face was still—blank, as they walked towards her court.

The male's court seemed to be not unlike her own. Although, it seemed as if it was smaller than hers, if only for a fraction.

It was an effort to not react, to not twitch or stare too intensely. Especially when Aelin settles her sights on the bronze haired female.

She remembers her from her plummet through worlds, but she is different this time. Aelin puzzles quietly, wondering, wondering. When she realizes what it is, something else is drawing her attention away.

This something flares up, red hot and ice cold at the same time. She knows this female, but how is unbeknownst to her. She remembers seeing the female as she after closing the gate, but she knows this female.

Suddenly it is as if Time itself has paused to watch the two females meet. The birds in flight stop, wings held high, wolves that prey the woods freeze with their noses to the wind. The critters burrowing deep into the ground wait, claws and teeth at the ready. Trees quiet their murmurs, strong and steadfast as the females stare. The wind slows and dwindles, it's screaming and howling becoming eerie silence as it listens to the heartbeats of two beings of Magic.

The rest of their courts are frozen, hands reaching to shield, faces etched in snarls, muscles tensed. Aelin slowly looks at her court, dazed, and returns her gaze of wildfire to the female of all courts. The female watches Aelin in return, her face is blank and her hands dangle listlessly at her sides.

They don't speak. It doesn't seem quite right, the world too silent and still around them to waste with empty words. They simply watch. Watch as the other watches them. And in a small moment, they let go.

And when they let go, they show their beauty to the world. They strip all of the walls, and shields, all of the ugly words and raging anger, crushing sorrow and boiling hate. They simply are.

They are promises and songs, blades and arrows, music. Art. They are brave and fierce, kind and loyal. They are anger and cruelty, sharp words and cutting voices. But above all, they are love.

They have prevailed, fought and roared for their futures, their happiness. And after all, kindred spirits recognize each other.

They recognize that awful blankness in each other's eyes, from the sting of bitter memories best left in dark corners of their cunning minds. They recognize the pain that comes from their bravery, from their resilience.

But they also recognize the families they have made for themselves, fought and won, those who stayed when they themselves wished for death, wanted to give up. Who never gave up. So, they watched.

And when they had seen all that could be seen, they gave acceptance in the form of a simple, small nod. A sign of equals.

And Time continued its journey.

As Time began its journey once more, the wind sighed, playing with the trees as they watched the scene unfold. The wild ones that dwelt in the forest continued their lives, quietly moving on. Because you see, the animals are wiser than us much of the time. The wild people of the woods know that there is no returning to the past, and so, they move forward, prevailing and living. They never forget, but they continue.

Aelin stands with her back to her own court, but she watches as the other female's court have a slight moment of confusion. As they look at each other, Aelin sheathes her sword.

Rowan snarls softly as Aelin turns to him. 'What are you doing.'

'They are not a threat to us. Stand down, Rowan.'

Their gazes are harsh and unforgiving as their wills clash and come together in a fierce battle of ice and fire. Aelin watches the primal battle in his eyes, her own face just as unyielding.

Only when Rowan's face is once again the calm rock that she knows like the back of her hand does she turn to the group once again.

Their gazes had not wandered in the time that Aelin and Rowan had been doing their 'thing', as Aedion liked to call it. Aelin found herself slightly uneasy, having her bond with her mate so exposed in front of new, untrusted Fae.

The bronze-haired Fae made the first move.

When she stepped forward, tensions running through the both courts, snapped. Viciously, and swift as the great cats of the safari.

Aelin found herself behind a wall of warm bodies; her fool cousin and mate had created a barrier between them. She couldn't stop the wild snarl that tore its way from her chest.

"Step aside, you territorial Fae bastards," Aelin hissed. She would not let her family be in range of the strange new courts' swords.

Aedion started. "Aelin—"

"What did I just say, Aedion?" Aelin seethed. "Stand down." The order was directed to her bird-brained idiot, along with all those behind her.

Rowan, at least, had the decency to follow the order as he stepped back to stand at Aelin's right side. Aedion, however, seemed to not get the message.

His head whipped around, and Aelin let a little bit of her inner being dance and jump in the gold of her eyes as he glared. When his mouth opened as if to argue once more, Aelin sent a lick of flame to flicker before his face to show her displeasure with his defying her orders.

The sound of a throat being cleared caught their attention. In eerie synchronization, the courts of Terrasen, Adarlan and the Witch Kingdoms whipped around to set eyes of varying degrees of darkness upon those of a new world.

Calculating eyes of deepest violet swept across them. The male slowly lifted his hands in a placating manner. His voice was the quiet majesty of the stars contained in sound.

"We mean you no harm. We only wish to speak with you."

Aelin rolled her eyes.

"Well, I know that," she said crossly, "and we would be speaking like civilized, polite people, and yet these dim-wits don't seem to understand that." Aelin crosses her arms, hip popped out and a smirk on her face as her court responded to her remark.

A snigger distracted them from the childish actions that took place after that particular barb. A male from the new court sniggered and giggled his way to a full blown bellow of a laugh.

A beautiful female standing next to him scowled, and then proceeded to smack his arm with all the force she could muster. It seemed as if it was quite a bit of force; the laugh cut off into a yelp. The male clutched at his arm and returned the glare his companion was giving him.

Aelin's smirk grew wider still.

The female from before took another step forward and Aelin stuck an arm out before anyone could move. They stared at each other, simply observing for a moment.

The female dipped her chin in a slight nod, one that Aelin returned.

"I am Feyre Archeron, High Lady of the Night Court." Her voice was lilting, almost melodic in its resonance. She motioned towards the Fae assembled behind her. "This is my court, the Court of Dreams."

Aelin looked unwaveringly at the female for a few moments, before her lips twitched slightly. She drew herself up her full height, and with shoulders firm and feet set proudly apart, she began.

"I am Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen and Faerie Queen of the West, and the knuckleheads behind me are my court, my family."

The light in Aelin's eyes is bright, and the pride she has in her family shows in every part of her being. She feels the tension riding high in the air relax some as she says her part.

The bronze female—Feyre—smiles at them, at Aelin, with her face aglow with understanding, kinship.

And with eyes alight with mischief says, "Welcome, Queen Aelin and her knuckleheads, to the Night Court."

Aelin could have sworn that the lights of the city below twinkled in delight as the High Lady uttered those words.


	6. "We Winnowed."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feyre's POV

The cries of outrage coming from the female's—Aelin's— court had my lips twitching into a smirk.

Behind me, I could hear Cass trying to stifle a snicker, probably trying to escape Mor's wrath. Midnight chuckles echoed within my mind and soon after I heard the high-pitched giggle of Mor. My smirk widened as the laughter behind me grew louder.

Aelin looked to me with an evil grin upon her face, eyes dancing with mischief. My own smile on display, I gave her a small wink.

Her head was thrown back as she cackled her delight to the sky, and looking at the rest of her court, it seemed as if they were albeit confused with her behavior.

My own shoulders began to shake as I tried to restrain my laughter, watching as Aelin struggled to catch her breath. One arm was wrapped around her stomach, the other was gripping onto the silver-haired male with white knuckles.

Slowly, Aelin stood up straight, wiping away tears of mirth, her eyes twinkling. I watched her hand come up to point at me.

"I think I'm going to like you, High Lady," she chuckled. Despite the playful tone of voice, I could see in her eyes that she knew what the title meant to me. I smiled warmly at her as some part of my heart softened.

"Likewise, Your Majesty."

Again, her smirk came to life on her face. She turned predatory eyes to her court. Jabbing a thumb towards me, "Maybe you all can learn some manners from this one. Even she knows to call me Majesty."

A man in the back rumbles a laugh, his arms crossed and eyes glittering.

"The day I call you Majesty is the day that you and Manon have round two."

Aelin cackled, now pointing at the silver-haired woman she came through with. "What do you say, Witch?" she snickered.

The woman bared her teeth in a grin, and as I watched, fangs of pure silver, gleaming and sharp, descended from her mouth. Claws of silver grew from her nails, long slender things that had me taking half a step back in surprise.

The woman took half a bow, "Any time, Monster."

Aelin's cackles grew louder as she looked back at the man who spoke. Whereas before, he had a look of easy arrogance, now his expression is pained. A wheezing noise stole my attention away from him. Aelin was gasping for air, the male at her side now holding her up with a slightly alarmed expression.

"Do you," she gasped between laughs, "even know what . . . . that means?" One glance at the man's face seemed to give her the answer. Loud cackles rang out once more.

The silver-haired woman smirked at the man. He seemed confused now, unsure of what was happening.

"Don't worry, Princeling. I'll explain later." Something flashed in the man's eyes at that. A smirk danced on his lips as he gave her a slight nod.

I cleared my throat quietly. Once I had gotten their attention once more, I smiled slightly.

"As much fun as this is, I'd much rather finish this somewhere much warmer. What do you say?"

"Gods, finally!" The male in the back, the one that looked like Aelin, spoke. "It's so cold. I'm pretty sure Lys still wants my—" The woman next to him abruptly slapped her hand across the male's mouth, a slightly panicked look on her face.

I chuckled. "Well, what are you waiting for?" I motioned towards myself. "Let's go then."

Aelin looked around skeptically. "Uhh, where?"

It was my turn to smirk. "You'll see."

. . . . 

It seemed as if the new-comers were not accustomed to our preferred way of traveling. I found it hard to not laugh as I watched half of them struggle to keep the contents of their stomachs intact. Aelin seemed to be the only one truly unaffected.

I felt a slight bit of apprehension as she looked around. We had taken them to the House of Wind, rather than my private home, or the town home.

"What was that?" the silver-haired male asked quietly.

"We winnowed," Rhys said. I looked towards him, slightly surprised. He had yet to speak the whole time. His hands were in his pockets, his shoulders relaxed. He stood as if the only people in the room were our family.

I slightly raised an eyebrow at him.

They deserve to know what is going on, he said.

Feeling keen eyes on me, I turned. Aelin and the male, who never seemed to leave her side, were staring intently.

"Wait, you do the same weird thing that Aelin and Rowan do?" A beautiful woman in the back exclaimed.

I was saved by Aelin from having to answer.

"I guess I should introduce the rest of my court, shouldn't I?" She smirked. My smile in return was slightly less mischievous.

"I would appreciate being able to know the names of your court. Especially since it seems we have some things in common," I winked slightly at Aelin, "so I will in turn tell you the names of my own court."

Rhys stepped forward. "But first, let's take a seat." With a melodramatic wave of his hand, chairs enough for all of us appeared. Yelps and curses from Aelin's court set Cassian's shoulders shaking. Mor was close behind him, and Rhys seemed to be suppressing a smirk.

Rhys started to snicker as soon as my hand made contact with his shoulder. Flinching away, he raised his hands in surrender. I glared until his giggles faded away. Until he started to look a little apprehensive even. Then, I jabbed a finger into his face. This is not over.

I turned back to Aelin, slightly smirking once more. "Well. Won't you take a seat, then?"


	7. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aelin's POV!!!

Aelin wasn't quite sure what to make of Feyre and her family. Of course, she knew that they were also her court, from the way that they stood together, down to the way they sat at the table.

Feyre and the black-haired male, who was, she now realized, Feyre's mate, were together at all times. Or so it seemed. Equals in every way. Just to their right was a small female, childlike in her stature, but the look in her eyes was one Aelin had seen Manon wear enough times to not discard her as a threat. She would have to be a second-in-command, of sorts.

Behind those three were two more of her court. Both the male and female stood together, but judging from the way they stood, they'd fought many a battle together. The woman was slight, and her obvious strength took nothing away from her beauty. The male was a broad thing, with arms and shoulders so wide, Aelin found herself wondering how he managed to move at all. He also had the silhouette of great wings behind his shoulders. A commander of armies, and a third.

The last member of Feyre's court was a slightly more interesting person. The amount of magic coming from him was the easiest for Aelin to pick out amount these powerful Fae. He was tall, taller than the male in front of him. His shoulders were strong, but not so strong that he was a hulking beast of a male, as was the male in front of him. He also stood in the back.

He stood there, silent and watchful. He had wings much like the other male's. But— there was something the Aelin couldn't place about him. She resolved to figure out what it was. But what she knew from her keen eye was that he was a spy of some sort. He was good at disappearing, and seemed to see all that was going on.

Within the recesses of Aelin's mind, she wondered why he had to learn that particular skill set.

Her attention was suddenly turned to Feyre, clearing her throat once more. Directing her attention to Feyre, she noticed the slight tension in Rowan's strong frame. Under the table, Aelin brushed her fingers over his reassuringly. To her surprise, he caught hold of her hand, gripping as if he was afraid she would disappear. Their twined hands rested upon Rowan's leg under the table. 

She turned to look at him, finding his eyes already on her face. He lightly squeezed her hand from its resting place on his leg. 'Are you sure about this, Aelin?'

She let some of her doubt and fear show in her eyes. 'No. But something tells me we can trust them. I think they're like us, Rowan.'

'If we do this,' he started, his eyes full of swirling emotions, 'I don't think we can come back from it.'

'I know.' Aelin shot a wry smile at him. 'But we're going to need their help, and their knowledge. We have no idea where we are, but I know that we are not in our own world. These Fae know this place; we need them, Rowan.'

Rowan blew out a breath that bordered on a soft growl. 'Alright. I trust you, Fireheart.'

"Gods, I hate it when they do that," Aedion muttered. It seemed as if he was still unnerved by their methods of communication. 

"Please, you're just jealous that you can't do that with Lys!" Aelin exclaimed spitefully. Muffled snickers and her cousin sticking his tongue out at her were the reactions she received. 

With a sudden motion, Aelin turned her attention to the party across from her. Eyes filled with mirth only seconds ago were now filled with calculation, her face a blank slate. Her back straightened and shoulders squared, her chin lifted as if she wore her crowns upon her head. A hush fell over the room, and all eyes were upon the young queen of Terrasen. 

"I suppose you would like to know who we are," she said quietly, but strongly. Feyre, her eyes alight with curiosity, nodded mutely and motioned for her to continue. 

Once again, all who were in the room could see Aelin straighten, fall into her role as Queen of her people. Quietly, she stood. 

"I am Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen and the Faerie Queen of the West. Myself and the others who surround you, hail from the world we call Erilea. I am surrounded by my court and fellow rulers of kingdoms from my world," she declared proudly. "I present to you, my mate, Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle and King of Terrasen." Rowan stood to stand with his mate, sending a small nod towards to Feyre's court. 

"Queen Manon, the Last Crochan Queen and ruler of the Blackbeak Witch clan. King Dorian of Adarlan, Heir of Elena and the last true holder of pure magic in his bloodline." At this point, both of them stood, quiet and watchful. 

"My cousin, General Aedion Ashryver, the Wolf of the North and his mate, Lysandra Ashryver, Lady of Caraverre." Hands clasped between them, the pair stood. 

"Elide Lochan, Lady of Perranth and her husband, Lord Lorcan Lochan." Soft chuckles rang out at that one. They stood, joining their friends, their family, in standing united together. 

For the second time that day, Time stood still. She watched and listened to the pounding of hearts filled to the brim. Filled with love, hatred. Dancing joy and bitter sorrow. Hearts that had fought with every fiber of their being, with everything that they could give, just for that little spark of hope in smothering darkness. Even when the agony suffocated, burned, froze and razed destruction with every step it advanced, they were strong.

They had fought, and lied, and cheated. Killed, stolen and destroyed. But they had also Loved. Their Love was so wholesome, so consuming, it took over, reassuring terrified children that it would be okay. When they trembled in the face of the world, the cackles and shrieks of that awful cacophony we call life, Love took them in its arms, shielding. Protecting. 

So when that Love was threatened by the very thing it had protected them from, they would not go without a fight. Raging, fighting, their power roaring through and at the unfairness of the world, they fought. 

And they fought.

They bled. And they got up.

Again. 

And again.

And again.

Over and over. They were shoved down, only to rise stronger than before. They cried and mourned and screamed until their throats could scream no more. They carried fires and shadows in their eyes, blades in scarred hands, leaving a path of blood behind them.

But . . . they fought. They would not take no for an answer, and so they beat the world into submission. They grabbed it by the throat and told it that they would not be chained any longer. 

They broke free. 

And now they stand, wild in their passion, beautiful in their scars, defiance shining in their eyes. Standing together in an unknown room, the world a whole new place to explore, they shone in their greatness, they laughed in the face of the pain that so thoroughly destroyed them. They could taste it, the stardust, because they were stardust. 

And so, Time laughed her merry twinkle of a laugh, and went along her way. 

As she left, the faint sound of music was heard playing in the air. Aelin smiled softly, letting the music strengthen her spine and fill her heart with courage. On a wind that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, the soothing scent of pine and snow relaxed the shoulders of the World Walkers from Erilea. 

Quiet laughter filled the air in that next moment. 

Smiling brightly, warmly at the strangers who seemed to have already captured her heart, Aelin gazed at them with proud eyes. The eyes of a great queen. 

"And who might you be?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I used another song from Victoria Carbol/Inquillery called "Ballad of Terrasen" for inspirtation on this one! Go check it out, it's so good!! Also, leave kudos and comments! I will also accept requests from you guys, if there's something you want to read!!
> 
> WOO! You're amazing! Have a wonderful day!

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo..... you made it! Hopefully you enjoyed, but if not then stick with me!!
> 
> I'm also on Wattpad if you want to read ahead. The story is under the same name, so hopefully it'll show up! :-) Also, if you want the song that kind of inspired this, listen to P!nk's "Just Like Fire"!


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